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Purirun the Brain Eater

Written for the Ladies Bingo (2025) on Dreamwidth

Prompt: Detective AU

Title: Purirun the Brain Eater

Ship: Purirun/Sakura Uta

Fandom: You and Idol Pretty Cure

Word Count: 6,230

Rating: M

Warning: Violence

Tags: Alternate Universe – Majin Tantei Nougami Neuro, Out of Character, Age Difference, Violence, Murder

Uta heard something once. About how the devil used to be an angel. She didn’t really get it, though. She wasn’t the kind of person to believe in the supernatural, just good and evil and that evil only happened to other people. Like grief.

Then she felt it first hand.

The whiplash of those words, “Uta… Kazu… Your father… He’s dead.”

Her Mother told her those words in the midst of despair which had once been unknowable to Uta. Now it was all she knew.

Yesterday, it was a normal day at Cafe Glitter. She went to school, she chatted with her friends, she wrote her notes and planned an essay. Then she came home and her Father was there. He gave her a melon soda float on the house and kissed her cheek. She told him that she loved him and he loved her. They laughed, they sang, they washed the dishes together. It was normal.

Today, everything changed.

Uta couldn’t bear to hear all the news. What happened… It wasn’t a suicide, Uta can tell you that much. Her Father was a happy, joyful man, he had wanted to see both his daughters grow up and graduate college and get married. He was healthy and hale and how in God’s name do you even use multiple knives like that on yourself if its a suicide?

That Uta knew for a fact.

There had been so much blood. His office was now cordoned off, a crime scene but the cops couldn’t figure it out. Therefore, it was a suicide. There was no sign of forced entry, there was no DNA which was unnatural to the household and everyone had alibis. Customers were in and out all day at Cafe Glitter whilst her Mother saw them, Uta and her baby sister were at school so there were no suspects.

Tomorrow…

Uta cried her eyes out. She cried her little heart out. There wasn’t anything left inside of her without her father. Without him, there was a gaping hole in her family: in her body.

Next week, the funeral was a whirlwind.

Her Mother had to be strong for her and Hamori but she was a mess. Her cooking was flavourless, these days. So, they had others rally around them to help. The part-timer, for example, and their neighbours. Tragedy brought out the best in them but Uta felt…

Nothing.

She read her lines of prayer as needed. She held Hamori’s hand whilst she wailed. They all missed her Father. They missed what their lives had been like last week and the day before. It was all just chaos and Uta hated it.

Why her? Why them? Why her family?

It just made no sense. The police told her to wait, they would handle it but they had already given up. No one wanted to help them in any way which was material to making it better. Just burying it over.

After the funeral, Uta holed up in her room. She stared at a framed photograph of her father. She burned incense. She continued to feel nothing as her eyes dried. She held herself and she felt neither hunger nor tiredness. It was empty as she let her eyes grow sore and stinging as the grief consumed her sad little existence as a child without a father.

She felt lost.

She felt out of her mind.

She had to have been seeing things as when she blinked, she was no longer alone in her room. Her window rattled. Her stuffed animals cackled and grinned madly as a wind whipped up out of nowhere and then she saw it.

Right in front of her.

There was a woman. She propelled herself through the framed photograph of Uta’s Father which was on her low table, in front of where she sat. She clasped her hands in prayer and when she smiled, it was wonky and full of teeth.

“Hello, lowly human girl, I am going to change your life, puri.”

Uta screamed.

Terror flooded her veins. She hugged herself in fear. She curled up into a ball and put her arms up and she waited. She waited for the claws that snatch and jaws that catch and then. Time passed. There was nothing.

The wind died down. Her teddy bears went quiet again. Lifeless again. There was no one. Uta slowly retracted her arms from in front of her and she looked around.

There was no one there.

Of course there was no one there. She had been in her room, all alone, but just who was that…? Her imagination. There was just something so real about that voice: so sweet, so silken, so scary. And those eyes: she had never seen such brightness of the pupil before, her soft, white hair. Uta felt herself rouse as disbelief battled her senses.

Uta placed her hand on her breast. She closed her eyes and calmed herself. There was no one there. She needed to calm herself. She breathed in, she breathed out. That’s better.

She smiled and as soon as all was right again.

There she was.

A mysterious woman, cloaked in light which was so blinding, it seared Uta’s eyes. They watered, she tried to cry but the light vaporised the liquid that she shed. All she did was laugh at Uta’s misfortune as she made herself known with heralds and trumpets which were far from angelic and yet.

She was beauty incarnate. Uta’s heart leapt through her chest as it faded and all that remained was that woman: she stood upon her low table, her high heel over her father’s picture. She dug in her heel and the glass cracked.

“What is your name, puri?”

“U-Uta. Sakura Uta.”

She feasted on the image of this woman. She wore a short skirt of pale blue and a shirt of white. Her sleeves were translucent, her neck was of lace work. Her legs were long and her hands were dainty.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance then, puri.”

Her voice was mischievous. She meant no ill will but everything about her was so out of this world and nothing about her was heavensent as the illusions of innocence that she projected.

“Now, will you allow me, Uta, to eat your brain, puri and solve your father’s murder?”

In the shadow of this woman, Uta understood it. Good and evil. They were all relative to each other, reflections and interconnections. The devil used to be an angel and the devil… She was beautiful. She was the most beautiful woman that Uta had ever seen in her life.

She was ethereal and surreal, with pale-coloured hair and huge green eyes. She smiled. She giggled. She was sweet and giddy with a flair for the unnatural.

“I can prove it, puri.” she purred. “Your father did not kill himself, he was murdered and I can prove it, puri.”

“Who… Who are you?” Uta asked.

The woman preened for her, her eyes sparkled as she poked her face, all to put on an innocent facade. Uta’s trepidation grew as she saw flashes of sharp teeth behind that smile of hers.

“They call me Purirun, the Brain Eater. I am the demon who consumes mysteries, puri, it's nice to meet you.”

She pulled her hand off of her face. She stepped closer. She loomed over Uta. She was tall and slender, eerie and unnatural and Uta looked up at her. Her heart quaked in her chest as this devil, Purirun the Brain Eater, caressed her face.

She drew a smiley face in blood on Uta’s cheek. Uta’s skin crawled. The scent of metal was pungent as Purirun drew two eyes and a curve. Her finger had transformed from a figure of beauty to something cruel and curved, with corkscrew nails made of iron barbs.

“Ack!” Uta shivered.

“Do you believe me, puri?” Purirun asked.

“Th-That you're going to eat my brain?” Uta asked, terrified.

Purirun giggled, “No, I’m going to eat your mystery, puri.”

“My… my mystery?” Uta cringed.

Purirun swung away. She put one hand over her brow to shade her eyes, she looked left and then right. Her nose twitched.

“Yes, puri!” she chirped. “Your mystery: the puzzle of intention meeting action, creating a cover for murder, puri. I’m going to eat the mystery of your father’s death, puri, it’s ready…. Come with me.”

Purirun grabbed Uta’s hand suddenly and she raced downstairs together. Uta was pulled along like a ragdoll in Purirun’s wake. Their footsteps thudded along the laminate wooden flooring and doors slammed. They made the most noise in the world and now, they made their tremendous arrival in the parlour of Cafe Glitter.

Purirun turned all heads: she was a stranger in a familiar place. Incongruent, conspicuous, and yet. That’s why she wanted Uta. She could be a buffer between herself, of unnatural origin, and this organic, human world.

“Uta, who is this woman?” her Mother asked.

“No one important, puri.” Purirun replied.

She scanned left to right of the parlour. It seemed the same old, same old. Even with Uta’s Father gone. The unwashed dishes were piled up but the sink ran with warm water. The floorboards were polished, but scratched. The family dog slept in the corner. People were seated at their usual booths, eating their usual meals. The world kept going.

The front door tinkled with the chiming of bells. Purirun prickled. She smiled. The person she had been waiting for had finally arrived: the number one regular of this little cafe.

Uta was relieved to see him when she saw him. She smiled sadly, tears pricked in the corner of her eyes.

“Old Man Ren!” she exclaimed.

He came closer with a heavy expression. He took his hat off and put it over his chest.

“Salutations, my dear,” he replied, “you have my apologies. Such a terrible thing.”

Uta’s lips quivered, “D-Don’t apologise,” she replied, “the police are doing – did? — their best.”

“Indeed.” Old Man Ren lamented. “I am putting these young ones through their paces. Incompetents, the lot of them. Kids these days.”

“Puri?” Purirun blinked audibly.

Old Man Ren finally noticed her and he was somewhat perturbed. Though to be fair, so was everyone else. But Purirun acted accordingly.

“Do you have a connection with the police force, puri?” she asked.

Old Man Ren nodded, “Yes, back in my youth, I was a brilliant detective. They called me the Lightbulb as my epiphanies cracked every case I was on.”

“Ooh, fascinating, puri.” Purirun said and she grabbed Uta.

Uta squeaked as she was pulled in close by Purirun. Close enough to be hugged, nodded, and even salivated over. Purirun smiled evilly but evil had never looked more saccharine on her cherubic features.

“Uta here is a genius youth detective herself, you know.” Purirun bragged. “I scouted her just now, puri, and let me tell you… She will shine.”

Uta erred. She really didn’t know about that. Especially as Purirun put more and more words in her mouth. Words that Uta really did not have the money nor guts to back up.

“In fact, puri,” Purirun grinned, sharp teeth and all, eyes keen with hunger, “she is going to solve Sakura Kazu’s murder in one hour, puri. Stay tuned!”

“Hu-huh?!” Uta exclaimed.

Purirun hugged her tighter and nuzzled against her head protectively, “Oh yes, don’t be modest, mistress, you are a genius.”

“Uta…” her Mother breathed behind her.

Old Man Ren was too surprised by the boasting to even react.

Uta got away from her Mother and faced her. Her sister came out from hiding too, though she went from one safe spot to another: from under the counter to clinging to their mother’s dress.

“I-It’s not like that-” Uta waved and panicked but her Mother smiled.

It was the strangest, most peculiar smile that Uta had ever seen. It struck a chord deep within her. It was pride, it was disbelief, it was love.

“I believe in you, dear.” her Mother said. “I’m glad… I’m glad you have a will to live.”

“I believe in, Uta, too.” Hamori added.

“Hamori… Mom…” Uta murmured, her heart pounded in her chest.

“Then let’s get started, puri.” Purirun said. “We need to start with the scene of the crime, puri!”

Uta gulped.

And against what she was sure was her Mother’s better judgement, she was given the key to the study.

Uta was given it with the clasp of her hand. It was soft and warm but full of tragedy. She made a silent promise not to mess things up but Purirun marched onwards. Time was ticking. Per Purirun’s words, something interesting was about to happen in an hours.

Apparently it was going to the solving of a murder.

Uta had her doubts.

Especially as she stood in front of that door then proceeded to unlock it.

The study was located on the ground floor of the house. The family’s house was upstairs, basically, and downstairs was the restaurant – and all business related proceedings. Hence the study. The floorboards were wooden and full of lustre, there were family photographs framed on the walls. It was eccentric but normal, in Uta’s opinion as the door opened and Purirun looked over her shoulder all to peer into the spotlessly clean crime scene.

Though it hadn’t looked that way before the police forensics had been so kind to give them a sweep.

They stepped inside and the air was sterile and musty. The atmosphere was oppressive. The thought of murder lingered, even though the blood was all gone and the tape outline of her father had been ripped up. Uta shuddered as she looked around at this tomb.

This was the first time that Uta had been in her father’s study since his murder. It was honestly the first time she had been in since she was a child. It was off-limits, it wasn’t a place to play.

But that’s what Purirun seemed to be doing.

She had a hop and skip in her step as she whipped out a magnifying glass and investigated. Uta watched what looked like a farce of what an actual detective should be doing. Speaking of, the real policemen and women had already swept this room top to bottom. What on Earth could Purirun be possibly looking for?

Something small…

Something close to the ground…

Purirun started high but she ended low. She got down on all fours and she inched along the expanse of wooden floorboards. Uta looked around as well but her heart raced. She closed her eyes. All she could imagine was her father… This was where he died, stabbed innumerable and when she opened her eyes.

Purirun had found what she was looking for.

“I knew it, puri!”

She dived on the corner of the bookcase. She swiped her hand along the underside of the bookcase and she retrieved something from underneath it. She smiled as she inspected it, she sat on her knees and with her other hand, she beckoned Uta closer.

“What is it…?” Uta asked.

“I believe humans wear these on their eyes to correct their poor vision, puri.”

She showed it off to Uta and Uta swallowed.

It was, indeed, a discarded eye contact. Something her father famously did not wear. He kept it simple with glasses but that’s not what made her shudder. It was the fact that it was spattered with maroon blood.

“How… How did they miss that?” Uta asked. “In the TV shows, they swab the crime scene meticulously.”

Purirun smiled, “You’ll make a good human just yet, puri.”

“Huh? I will?” Uta asked, confused.

“Come on, we need more evidence, puri.” Purirun moved on.

She sprang up and put the bloodied eye contact inside of a handkerchief. Then, she stowed the handkerchief in her skirt. She tapped her finger on her chin then continued to look around the room.

She had fruitfully searched low. Next, it was to look a little higher, it seemed. She looked along the stretch of the ceiling but it was just a normal, white ceiling in Uta’s opinion. Nothing special about it.

More architectural choices that her and her mother had looked through construction booklets for. Same for the windowsill that Purirun fixated on next. There really wasn’t special about it. It had opaque curtains and blinds, an aluminium grate and wooden panels. Even so, Purirun took great interest in it.

Purirun skated her fingers along the windowsill. She inspected it and Uta watched. She fidgeted with her hands behind her back and shrugged. The dust on the windowsill didn’t even look disturbed: let alone that there was ever a break-in.

But the murder happened inside the room and there were no reports of anyone going in through the locked door at the front of the room. Uta grizzled. This was pointless.

And Purirun must have thought so, too. She gave up and looked elsewhere. Judged the decor and such. She drew out the metre long rulers that Uta’s father had in the corner next to the window.

“My dad’s hobby.” Uta said. “He did all the interior decorating for Cafe Glitter, it was his and Mama’s dream to run a restaurant, they worked closely with the architect and construction crew so it’d be perfect.”

Purirun fingered the tip of the ruler then placed it back into its container. She moved on. She mustn’t have found Uta’s mention of her Father’s hobby all that interesting as she floated through the room.

She ended up at the table with his computer.

Purirun beamed as she put her hands on her hips, “Perfect, this should help us find our suspect.”

“Really?” Uta asked.

“Really, puri!” Purirun trumpeted.

She took one hand off her hips and it transformed. Her slender, delicate hand of ivory transformed. She gained claws which were jagged and sharp. Her skin turned to shiny, shiny chrome. She reached out and through the computer’s screen.

Uta squeaked. The glass didn’t break and the computer came alive. It mutated.

“Think about it, puri,” she said, “who had access to the crime scene…?”

Uta could think of a couple people. Her and Hamori, her Mother, they were all innocent. The part-timer? But he wasn’t working. She couldn’t think of anyone else and she watched in awe as Purirun went further and further into the internet.

“Ouch, a firewall, puri.” Purirun complained. She pouted.

But she knew how to deal with it, too. She gave the literal firewall on the screen the flick and then bingo. She had all the records and more that she needed.

“Whoa, what is that?!” Uta asked, her eyes widened.

“The police headquarter’s stuff, puri.” Purirun giggled. “Oh…?”

She had brought up an image of a familiar face – and some details to go with him.

Jou Renji. Retired. Former detective. Known amongst his colleagues as Ren the Lightbulb. It gave a highlight reel of some of his best adventures, both in Japan and abroad, in places like France. It also listed his personal details at the time of said retirement. He weighed seventy-five kilograms, he was five-foot-nine, both eyes brown, and hair was grey. So on and so forth. All the kinds of things which could be reasonably concluded about him if anyone saw him, quite frankly.

“I’m ready, puri.”

Uta glowered. She, however, was not ready – nor did she feel all that confident in what “evidence” that Purirun had collected but nevertheless. The hour she had boasted she needed to solve this mystery was up. Uta’s stomach knotted. She had gotten her hopes for nothing.

“Can you really do it?” Uta asked. “Solve this mystery?”

Purirun drooled in front of her, she pushed the back of her hand along her mouth, “Uta, I’ve already solved it, puri. The meal is starting, puri, will you eat with me?”

Uta shivered, “I… I will.”

“Perfect, puri!” Purirun cheered, she clasped her hands together and her eyes were alight with demonic energy. “Now, on my cue, all you will have to do, puri… Is say that “the culprit is you”.”

Uta’s brow furrowed.

She took a breath and she took one last look at Purirun. She had faith that this baby-faced demon would help her. Then, she looked ahead. She opened up the door and they left her father’s study.

Outside that door, her mother and sister looked distraught with worry. Old Man Ren waited, bemused, he fiddled with his hat. Uta offered them both a hesitant smile. Purirun stood by her side and she took a big breath: big enough to draw attention. Not that she needed it, given how pretty and spindly she was.

“Everyone, attention!” Purirun yelled. “Child prodigy detective Sakura Uta has solved her father’s murder, puri!”

Shock and exclamation caused a ripple through the cafe. People looked up and around. Purirun pushed Uta forth. Anticipation began to build but Uta felt only trepidation in her heart as the comforting parlour of Cafe Glitter turned to a trial and jury of her peers.

Uta stood in front of the captive audience of friends, family, and strangers. They were all shocked by Purirun’s announcement. They stared at her. Eyes wide and bewildered. Confusion, betrayal, fear: it was all there and written across their faces as Uta now had the unique displeasure of pointing out who amongst them had killed her father.

Uta’s hand began to move without thinking. She glanced over her shoulder. The demonic energy that radiated off Purirun was a thick, green miasma yet invisible to those whom Purirun had not marked and now, Uta shared in it. She was turned into a puppet.

The feel of it was repulsive. Disgusting. It felt noxious and slimy as Uta channeled it: her hand pointed upwards like an arrow and then, she thrust forward. She pointed at only one person in the crowd.

“The culprit… Is you!”

Uta’s voice rang through. Strong and powerful. She hardly recognised her own intonation as catharsis to the mystery was not only in reach, she could practically taste it.

She had pointed at none other than, Old Man Ren.

Even Uta was shocked.

“M-Me?”

He pointed at himself in shock. Offence, even.

“I am a decorated, retired detective, a close friend to your family, you think I could kill your father?” Old Man Ren thundered.

And Uta could only tremble with fear. She couldn’t believe it and she wouldn’t believe it. Not until Purirun had evidence of this claim that she had used Uta to channel. She looked over her shoulder, pleadingly, and Purirun stepped forward.

She giggled and she placed her hands either side of Uta’s arms. She cuddled her, even nuzzled her face.

“What’s that, puri?” Purirun asked. She pretended like Uta was whispering something to her. “You want ME to explain? Oh, good fortune has truly shone upon me this day. If my prodigal mistress wants me to explain her deductions, very well, I shall do my best, puri.”

Purirun let go of Uta – and shoved her out of the way. Uta was sent spinning and Purirun took to the middle of Cafe Glitter’s main thoroughfare like she was a model on a catwalk. It was time for the performance of a lifetime.

“It is elementary, my dear, that’s what Uta would say.” Purirun said. “Old Man Ren is the only person in this mystery to have the level of clearance needed to tamper with the investigation. In fact, getting away with this whole murder relied upon it.”

Uta’s Mother interjected, accusatory, “Earlier,” she pointed out, “you called the other police incompetents.”

Uta blinked. He did, too! Her blood began to boil. Slowly, she was putting the puzzle pieces into place based on what she and Purirun had uncovered in the office. Purirun glanced at her and she keened on Uta’s fierce expression as listlessness gave way to purpose.

Delicious, tasty purpose.

Purpose which would one day blossom in quite the divine puzzle, Purirun had no doubt but for now. She had to focus on the meal on hand. She almost had this worm served up on a silver platter all to enjoy. She just needed him to relinquish control of his mystery in a few more steps.

He just needed to give up the ghost.

Uta’s Mother turned to Purirun, “I-If Old Man Ren is the killer… how did he do it?”

“That’s what my mistress Uta asked as well: if Old Man Ren did it and he did not do it when the body was discovered… Then how did he do it? How did he concoct the locked room element of this mystery?” Purirun asked. “Easy. He knew that his dear friend Sakura Kazu enjoyed building design and as such, kept metre long rulers in his office to use in his drawing hobby of this. He used one of these rulers to create a trap on the windowsill.”

Uta blinked. Her… Her titbit about her Father was helpful. Purirun had seemed so disinterested before, in hearing about the man whom Sakura Kazu was and yet. It helped. For some reason, as much as it made her want to cry, it made her happy. It overjoyed her. Butterflies flitted in her stomach as Purirun explained an oddity that no one had noticed.

Her Father’s metre rulers were dull. This was not from use, this was from a purposeful act to shorten them. They had been filed back just enough to fit in the windowsill.

“You planned this murder meticulously, Old Man Ren, you even fooled the murder victim himself, acting kind and interested and helpful but really, you wanted to shave down this ruler, place it in the windowsill so that when you were ready, you would have your victim right where you want him: inside of a locked box, with no witnesses.” Purirun explained. "You placed that metre ruler in the grate so you would have a way to jam the window to use as both an entry and exit point!"

“Th-That’s just hearsay,” Old Man Ren blustered, “baseless speculation.”

“Unless.” Purirun inserted herself into the defence. She stepped closer and closer. She grinned. “I have indisputable evidence that you were there prior to the discovery of the scene. And I do.”

She waved her hands and then did a magic trick. She showed she had nothing up her sleeves, nothing on the inside of her palms then curled her fingers in. She opened one hand, closed it, then opened the other. She now had a bloodied eye contact on the inside of her palm.

“Do you often wear glasses, sir?” she asked. “And I can’t help noticing, puri… One of your eyes is a slightly different colour to the other…?”

Uta blinked. They were the same colour in Old Man Ren’s digital photo ID that they had found in Purirun’s hacking – and even her own memory. When she strained her mind for all the times she had said hello to Old Man Ren and served him his usual, he never wore glasses and his eyes were the same colour in each pupil.

A dull and murky brown.

Purirun smiled, bright and sparkly, as she just asked questions: “If this eye contact were sent off to forensics, would they find your DNA on it, sir? And the blood on it… It's possible it could have fallen out whilst you were securing the scene but… Then how did the blood get on it? The blood was long since dried and the corpse was cold when Kazu’s body was found…? And if you had lost it during the investigation, why didn’t you report that?”

“Well, I-I didn’t notice.”

“I think you didn’t notice because you were having so much fun killing Sakura Kazu.” Purirun announced. Her voice boomed through the restaurant. “I think it fell out when you killed him and I think everyone here knows it. That you are the culprit – as Uta had deduced.”

Old Man Ren began to crumple under the pressure.

Purirun stared at him, hungry, “Well, Old Man Ren… If you are such a good detective, resting on your laurels, lauded by the community, loved widely… If you did not kill Sakura Kazu and if Sakura Kazu did not kill himself as you tried to state… Who did?”

Of course, it was too late.

The guilt was apparent. The sequence of events made too much sense. Everyone believed Purirun – acting on behalf of the genius detective, Sakura Uta – over Old Man Ren, the so-called Lightbulb.

“That’s what I thought.” Purirun simpered.

Old Man Ren clapped. Kudos was due where it was earned and he could not have been more impressed with the alleged mastermind behind his downfall.

“Well done,” he said, laughing guiltily, “yes, it was me. You did well to figure it out. I thought that I had it so well thought out, so perfect… This crime of mine.”

Upon his admission, Uta felt it. A strange atmosphere. She watched as negative energy erupted from around Old Man Ren. It was discordant and physical: puzzle pieces, miasma, and more, symbols which were old and arcane. That was Purirun’s food source.

“It’s time to eat, puri.” she chirped.

She stepped forward as she slobbered. She transformed and Uta saw it. The ugliness beneath her beautiful facade. Deep down, beneath her prim and proper attire, her ivory skin and green eyes, she was a monster. She was full of fangs and claws, eyes that saw everything and she devoured the energy that Old Man Ren exuded.

She sucked it down and she thanked him quietly for her meal.

It was over in an instant.

“Ah.” Purirun sighed as she smacked her lips together and licked her fingers. “That hit the spot. The case is now closed.”

Old Man Ren came to his knees. He gave up the ghost: he put his hands together, ready to be cuffed at the wrists.

There was confusion amongst the peanut gallery. Hatred, too. Disbelief. But with it all laid out bare, it was undeniable that this was the truth. Uta’s Mother was stricken with tears, Hamori whimpered behind her. It was all over. Mystery solved and yet.

Uta was silent. She had no pride, no gloating. Despite being the face of the mystery solver, she had been little more than a vessel of play pretend. One that Purirun was done using now that she had been fed.

With her face stuffed, Purirun was satisfied. She was full. She no longer cared about the puzzle pieces which had comprised her meal. They were more than cutlery to be discarded but they weren’t.

This was Uta’s life. This was her friends and her family, this was her father’s murder and so. She was far from satisfied. She stepped up. She found her voice as rage filled her veins.

She glared at Old Man Ren and she asked in a voice which could freeze Hell, “Why did you do it? Why did you kill my father?”

“There it is…” Old Man Ren said. He put his hand over his face as he cackled. His shoulders shuddered as he laughed from the deepest, most hellish pits of his stomach. “That’s the reason.”

“What… Do you mean by that?” Uta seethed. All she saw was red.

The worst of humanity. How Old Man Ren’s once kindly face twisted, turned hideous with his perverse blood lust. He looked up at her and she sneered.

“I wanted to see it. That expression.” Old Man Ren reminisced. “I missed it. I became a police officer because I loved seeing it: I loved seeing the extremes of human emotion, and I wanted to see what would happen if this loving family was torn apart. The happy eldest daughter, the doting father: it disgusted me.”

Uta’s fist trembled by her side.

“Puri?” Purirun noticed with a blink.

She swooped in closer. She laced her arm around Uta and Uta continued to shake with the most sublime rage. Her Father had been killed for such a lame fucking excuse. She couldn’t take it. She hardly registered how Purirun used her as a puppet, once again pretending that Uta was whispering something in her ear whilst she looked around and acted dumb.

“I see, puri. If that’s what you want.”

“Huh?” Uta mumbled.

Purirun stepped out and she closed in on Old Man Ren. “If you want a show… I’ll give you a show alright, puri.”

Once more, Uta’s hand moved without her thinking. She pointed at Old Man Ren and the most disgusting energy poured off of her. The dimensions around them twisted. It was just her and Old Man Ren in a labyrinthian nightmare of confounding terrors.

He screamed and screamed. He shrivelled up and cried like a baby. He had to be taken away by force, when other police showed up to haul him away and throw him in the clanker.

But it was over.

The ordeal of Sakura Kazu’s murder was over – and his darling daughter was, as far as the human eye could see, the reason for its solving. Her Mother held her tightly and Hamori clung to her after that. The police apologised profusely and it generally seemed that something bizarre had taken place.

Though no one was sure what.

Just as she arrived, she disappeared into thin air, too: Purirun was a mystery in of herself.

Uta, honestly, wanted to forget it all. She wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing. She was barely passing in most of her grades. She liked singing and cooking. She was a normal fourteen year old girl.

With a very abnormal woman fixated on her.

Over the course of the next couple days, Uta was able to sleep well. She didn’t cry as much. She felt closure: it wasn’t necessarily catharsis, but she did feel better. Until Purirun returned in her life.

She waited outside of her window, she stuck herself to it like a gecko, upside down, and grinned. She banged and banged and banged until Uta let her in.

“Uta, Uta, there’s another mystery afoot, puri.” Purirun told her.

“You can’t be doing this!” Uta squealed.

Purirun climbed on through and she stood in the middle of Uta’s room again. She surveilled it, left to right with her hand like a visor over her eyes. Her gaze was distant and most curiously of all, the longest strand of hair that framed her otherwise angelic face had developed a mind of its own. It lifted up and pointed towards the magnetic north.

“This way, puri!” Purirun trumpeted when she finally aligned with her own hair.

“Y-You want me to solve another mystery?!” Uta squeaked.

“Well, yes. That’s why I chose you to be my pet human, puri.” Purirun replied, all cheery and uppity.

Uta stood nervously in her pyjamas. She let Purirun loom over her, a bright smile and leery eyes. Her mouth watered. She was hungry. Really hungry.

“C’mon! I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful partnership, puri.” Purirun commented.

She played with Uta’s hands. Swung them to and fro but Uta gave her very little to work with. Her expression was dour and stormy.

“Why me?” Uta asked. “Out of all the people in the world… Why did you appear in front of me, Purirun?” She looked up and she cried as she met Purirun’s gaze.

It was so utterly incongruent and playful. She hummed and she bounced on her heels.

“I’m not too sure why either, puri.” she confessed. “I think it's destiny, puri.”

She let go of Uta’s hands. They drew back and she hummed in thought, she tapped her chin with her pointer finger. She had such sharp and shiny nails.

“I left Hell because I had already solved and eaten all the mysteries there, puri.” Purirun revealed. “I came to the human world because I wanted to eat more delicious brains, more complex mysteries, puri. Humans… Even though I’m a Demon, I don’t necessarily comprehend what exactly it is you imbeciles do that fattens a mystery compared to how Demons kill and are killed. And I dunno… I just thought that the mystery you could one day make… Oh, it’d be the tastiest of all, puri.”

Uta’s heart quaked in her chest, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Mm… Not much, puri.” Purirun replied. She stepped in closer, so they were toe to toe. She placed her head against Uta’s forehead so they met. She closed her eyes and envisioned some delicious meal that Uta couldn’t imagine.

Though to dear, sweet Purirun, it probably looked like a mountain of creme caramel pudding with a cherry on top. Except that it would have to be served up with a twisted and sadistic murder instead of whipped cream. One that Uta could create?

“Right now, puri,” Purirun mused, “your brain is on par with that of a worm’s, it wouldn’t be tasty at all, puri but one day… I will eat your brain, puri.”

“Oh… I’d be at least a mouse…” Uta complained before it dawned on her what exactly she had realised she was complaining about. “Eh! But I’m human, d-don’t call me a worm! A-And don’t eat my brain either, please!”

Purirun laughed at her expense but this sealed it.

They were officially Sakura Uta, “genius” teenage detective, and her demonic, brain-eating partner, Purirun.

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